


Nearly Memories

by BossBot97



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BossBot97/pseuds/BossBot97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bluestreak goes to war, his creators remember at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nearly Memories

_My optics flickered in time with my throbbing processor, giving me the impression I was with several bots that night. In reality though, it was only my fluid Mirage. I couldn't count the number of bots he was that night, looking back it seemed to be about 6-7 different forms. Tall and blue, short and grey, it didn't matter what form he took, he still drove me wild. My favorite was a tall lanky form the same color as our berthroom. He would sneek up on me in that form, and I would genuinely lose him for several kliks at a time..._

The feed went out. {Damn.}

{Come on, you almost got through the night that time.}

{Help me remember…} Mirage supplemented my memories with his own pixelated memory feed.

_I saw myself through his eyes. He was creeping along the wall, laughing at me, and I was looking for him. I hobbled about, extremely over-energized, peering straight at Mirage with unseeing eyes. My eyes. They were flickering, scaring Mirage to the core. Scared me to look back on._

_The image changed, unbidden._

_Looking through my eyes again, I was at a "party". Lots of mechs were there, even several Decepticons. It seemed odd to me that all the mechs there were on their 28th anocycle. Except me. I was the only elder there, and I searched my memories for the reason. Ah, I was sent to calm the party. Why me, Jazz, of all mechs?_

_"You can talk to them."_

_"You know how to crank up a party, you must know how to crank one down."_

_The disembodied voices of mechs trying to calm the party were drowned out by the kids' voices. "You only get one 28th!"_

_"Heard plenty of party animal stories about you! Care to show us some moves?"_

_When I tried to dissuade the younger bots, they taunted me. "What? You scared?"_

_"Bet even I can hold my high-grade better than you!" That had set me off._

_"Wanna put your pride where your mouth is?"_

_"Yeah! When and where?"_

_"Right here, right now. Cocktail Runner. No teammates. Just you and me." I pointed angrily at the younger mech and myself as I spoke. An image of Kup sprang to the forefront of my memory, "Turbo-Revvin' Young Punk! I'll straighten ya out yet!" The croud came alive with the challenge. "oOoOoOo!" The crowd seemed split, under half (all the big jockish kids) yelling at the kid to knock my block off, the rest strangely silent. I got the feeling that the kid who challenged me was a bully, so the ones who were bullied didn't dare speak out against him. "Let me call in a friend of mine. He can whip up the strongest cocktail-"_

_"No. We're using my high-grade."_

_"Whatever. Just thought your 'friends' might like to watch you crash instead of just offlining at my feet." Another roar from the crowd-_

_This memory dissolved too..._

_Another formed in its place almost instantly. Before I could groan in frustration, my shadowed mindscape transformed into an alleyway. In this cold and dank place, I noticed the tiny heat signature immediately. As I approached, the source of the heat sig, a tiny sparkling, a tiny PRAXIAN sparkling, scampered away, much slower than it seemed to want. The nearly imperceptible glow of its optics brightened in fear at my closing the distance. I stopped and gave him a goodie. My memory flashed forward in time, to when I brought him to Prowl his 1st orn home from the hospital. He was so small and maltreated that he'd needed several orns medical care before I could adopt him. He had the cutest stripe of blue on his protoform's back, it looked like someone painted it on with a paintbrush:), so I told the medics to call him Bluestreak. When Prowl saw the sad grey Praxian sparkling in my arms, he wanted nothing more than to hold the small bot, and dote on him like a loving uncle, and show him that not all mechs were as bad as his original creators. He grew to trust Prowl, Mirage, and me, but he was still antisocial, and afraid of all other mechanoids. On one servo, I was glad of that fact. He won't end up in the wrong crowd. On the other servo, I realized that having bad friends, though bad, was better than having none._

_Once he grew up though, it was hard to tell his personality from mine. He admired me, and even chose a similar v-mode. If one didn't know he was adopted they thought he was mine - without fail. Now if he ended up going out with Mirage, which didn't happen too often, Mirage would just tailor his appearance accordingly. When Bluestreak and my fluid Mirage waltzed up our exceedingly long driveway, it revved my engines to see them together, as a family... He was such the gentlebot though..._

_The image faded to black._

Tears of coolant threatened my optics. {I miss my little baby Blue...} I wimpered. Mirage held me tight.

{He'll be home soon, my dearest Jazz}

{What if he's injured? If he thinks he's too "grown up" to play with his creator? If he's dead?} I wailed into my fluid Mirage's chestplates, coolant streaming from my eyes. He held me close without a word, his love, and worry, flooding into my spark. {I can still remember so many of his firsts.}

Memories resurfaced, and I shared them with Mirage.

_His first time being held by Prowl._

_Bluestreak was scared and Prowl was worried he'd drop my fragile Blue. He shouldn't have worried. As soon as Blue realized I wasn't going to pull him from Prowl's servos, he clung to Prowl, scared to death of being left alone again. Prowl stroked that tender spot between his doorwings, calming the child. I massaged the same spot on Prowl's back, and his doorwings fell to a more comfortable level. Blue cuddled into Prowl's chestplates, suddenly feeling more at ease in his servos._

_His first laugh._

_It was anocycles after we brought him home, and he was watching my fluid Mirage and me wrestling. He bested me by changing forms as he pinned me, changing from an overly large mech to his tallest form. The way he pinned me, I could reach his CEP, and I licked it. Mirage, my fluid Mirage, stiffened as the plates almost moved apart against his will. Then he scolded me, "Jazz, Blue is watching!" We all had a good laugh about it._

_His first smile._

_The orn before I brought him home. When I told him I was to be his new creator, his optics lit up, and the most adorable grin crossed his faceplates. When I saw that, I knew I wanted to make him smile like that forever and for always. I knew he was my sparklet, and he knew I was going to be a good daddy._

_The first time he onlined in the morning happy, with a goal in mind for the orn._

_A decaorn after he saw Prowl. He wanted to make something for his uncle. I can still see the smile on both their faces as Blue presented my loving Prowler with a small vase, complete with 3 homemade flowers. "Kid's got talent, that's for sure!" "Do you like it?" Blue asked, his voice trembling as Prowl examined it from all angles. "Like it? I love it, Bluestreak!" He picked up the child with his free servo, perching Blue on his shoulder. Blue squealed in terror for an astrosecond. "Let's find somewhere to put this, shall we? Watch your head." Blue ducked below the door frame, smiling, and pointed out various places to put the amateur art._

A teardrop hit my helm, pulling me into the present. {Don't cry my dear sweet Mirage.} My beautiful fluid Mirage.

{Don't let me go.} He whimpered.

{I'll hold you until the end} I consoled him.


End file.
